Not Personal, Not Impersonal

A family moved

I noticed a new family moving into a flat near me the other day. The father was in the van picking and choosing the next heavy thing he was going to lift while the kids were running back and forward with some smaller plastic bags and so on. I didn’t see the mother she was inside with the last heavy consignment no doubt.

At the particular moment that I was walking past the father was in the van while his eight year old daughter walked up to the van and said, “Daddy why do you think Mummy has so many clothes”?

“Baby,” he said back, “I just don’t know but one day I think you’ll know a lot better than me.”